


Orange Marmalade

by muuny



Series: Fruit and other delicious things [2]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, everyone is happy, sly is still being adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 06:04:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1971696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muuny/pseuds/muuny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s so touched that everyone’s here for him: Koujaku, Noiz, Mizuki, Clear, Sei, Ren and Beni, Granny… Everyone has taken time out of their Friday evening just to celebrate possibly the most nerve-frazzling period of his entire life. </p><p>or it's Aoba/Sly's surprise baby shower and everyone's there and there is cake and presents and slyjaku.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Orange Marmalade

**Author's Note:**

> i made a continuation i am very sorry.

The first couple of constellations are just taking their places in the periwinkle, evening sky. It is a little past eight, and a sweating Koujaku just bade farewell to his final customer. And it’s a good thing, too, because Tae has been blowing up his coil for consecutively three minutes. He was trying to be polite and considerate of his customer’s feelings and not rush her out of his shop, but he knew with every chime that sang from his coil he was wading even deeper and deeper into blistering water with Tae. Miraculously she went on her way, and Koujaku immediately whips out his coil to return one of her many calls.

“KOUJAKU. YOU HAD BETTER HAVE A GOOD REASON WHY YOU’RE JUST _NOW_ ANSWERING ME.”

“T-Tae-san I apologize! I-I got caught up and I lost track of time.”

“Mm. I suppose I can excuse it. Where are you now?”

“I’m just leaving the shop—”

“—‘JUST LEAVING?’ I THOUGHT WE HAD THE SHOWER SCHEDULED FOR EIGHT-THIRTY?”

“I-I know.” The customer was a walk-in who swaggered in just as Koujaku was about to prepare to close shop and head for home. Being the gentleman that he is, Koujaku could not find it in him to refuse her. Plus she simply desired a quick shampoo, cut, and style, something that the hairdresser figured he could accomplish in record time and still make it to Tae’s for Aoba’s surprise baby shower.

“Are you at least on your way to your home?” Tae asks with an irritated sigh.

“Yes, yes! I should be there in a moment. Is everybody already there?”

“All except for Mink has made it here. He knows about the party, and yet he still doesn’t show. Noiz tried to get a hold of him. I even tried, too, but he’s apparently disappeared again.”

Koujaku grit his teeth, “Damn it, Mink.” He knows how much it would mean to Aoba if Mink actually showed up to the celebration. Aoba would want everyone there. They have all touched individual sections of his heart; they all mean something to him. Just not having Mink there will not complete Aoba’s little circle of friends, but it appears they will have to continue without having his presence there. The show will have to go on.

“Koujaku, just try to be here within thirty minutes. The food’ll be no good if it gets cold,” Tae-san pleads, struggling to mask her impatience.

“Yes, Tae-san. We’ll be there.”

:::::::

Ren’s pointed ears twitch and perk at attention. He sits at attention, documenting the footsteps he hears approaching the home.

“Aoba. Koujaku and Beni will be arriving soon.”

“How soon?” asks Aoba from the kitchen.

“Approximately two minutes.”

“About time. Thanks.”

Ren springs down from the cushion on the sofa, joining Aoba in the kitchen. He circles his slippers.

“Koujaku will not be too delighted in seeing you in the kitchen.”

“I’m tired of sitting on my ass all day doing nothing. He’ll get over it. _I’m_ making dinner tonight for a change.”

And in two minutes, Aoba can hear Koujaku shuffling up the stairs.

“I’m home, Aoba.” Koujaku slips through the front door and closes it behind him, securing the barrier. Beni makes the short flight over to Aoba’s left shoulder.

“Aobaaa! Yo!” He pecks Aoba on the cheek with his sharp beak. It feels like a pinch. It’s a teasing gesture, an example of how Beni expresses his own love for his owner’s partner. Aoba’s used to it.

“Ah. Welcome home, you two,” comes Aoba’s response. Beni lands on Ren’s head and the two make off for the living space. Koujaku finds Aoba in the kitchen. He’s conjuring up something, his slender back facing Koujaku and the front of his body attentive to the skillets on the stove. Koujaku’s lips dip a fraction. He can tell Aoba to stay off of his feet until his cheeks glow blue, but this is hard-headed Aoba for you. He’s always going to do what he pleases.

“I’ve already started on dinner,” comments Aoba, reducing the heat, “You’re somewhat late.”

The hairdresser does not come home empty handed. He clutches in his right hand a luscious, stuffed bouquet of ripe, blue lilies. Koujaku doesn’t dare tell Aoba that he had them imported. The price tag was a bit on the hefty side, but tonight is a special occasion. And besides, his lovers deserve the very best.

“ _Ahh_ , yes, but I have something for you.”

Koujaku takes him by the hand and twirls him about, mystifying Aoba for a brief second. Then, from behind his backside, he presents the thoughtfully-wrapped bouquet to his lover. Aoba’s eyelids peel back; the amber in his eyes glistens. “Oh,” is all he manages. Koujaku observes the quiet layer of pink bleed to the surface of Aoba’s cheeks. Aoba takes the bundle of blossoms into his arms, pupils bouncing to each of their many vibrant petals.

“ _Koujaku…_ These are amazing.”

“Do you like them?”

“Yeah… I do,” a teensy chuckle, “thank you. There’re so many.”

“Well there are two of you, and I can’t have Mink showing me up,” Koujaku settles a duo of kisses on Aoba’s temple – the extra one, of course, for Sly – and encompasses as much of him as he can, “Glad you like ‘em . You’ve been feeling alright?”

“Mhm. She just settled down about an hour ago. I think the few pieces of chocolate I ate had her riled up.”

Koujaku smiles warmly. His eyes skip from the top of Aoba’s belly to the orb’s belonging to his lover.

Oh yeah. Days earlier, the couple was disclosed the official sex of their child. Tae surprised them with a visit from a thoroughly-screened, well-trusted OBGYN specialist from the District. Up until then Ren and Beni took turns monitoring the fetus and relaying information. Tae told the couple it would be more appropriate to have an actual doctor monitor the baby’s final stages of growth, and they gave in to her proposal. Or they could not argue with her, more like. On their first appointment, Koujaku and Aoba learned they were going to be fathers of a beautiful girl. Koujaku just about shed rivers as he imagined exclusively tending to her long, azure locks: He passionately prays every night that she inherits Aoba’s blessed mane.

“That’s good. As long as she’s active we should have nothing to worry about. Now,” Koujaku flicks his forehead, “what’ve I told _you_ about resting?”

Aoba’s full lips jut to a pout. “ _Ow._ I just thought I would get dinner started since you were a little late getting home. And we do have to eat, you know. I don’t want you doin’ all the cooking all the time.”

“Aoba, I’m fine with ‘doin’ all the cooking’ if it means you get your rest – which you need,” Koujaku posts kisses to the pink blotch that sprouted from his assault, preparing the white lie on his tongue, “but I thought I told you that we’re eating at Tae-san’s tonight?”

The younger of the two blinks twice.

“Huh? Granny?”

“I didn’t tell you? She invited us over yesterday.”

“And she didn’t bother to tell me about it?”

“I guess she thought you’d probably forget, and you probably would have. Maybe that’s why she told me instead.”

“But I wouldn’t forget Granny telling me something like that—”

“Alright, alright,” Koujaku hushes, taking the bouquet from his lover’s hold, “we wouldn’t want to make her upset. She’s expecting us to be over in a couple minutes. I’ll take these and put them in some water. You go ahead and change.”

“But what about _this!?_ ” Aoba points to the active stove and the neat array of chopped peppers he had started on just minutes before his lover’s arrival. Koujaku’s already got a crystalline vase in his hand.

“I’ll take care of all of it, baby, just go and get ready.”

Aoba huffs. He’ll cook dinner some other time. He shuffles on into the bedroom to get freshened up, Ren following at his heels.

:::::::

Fall is unquestionably in full swing. It’s fairly windy that evening, but Aoba is dressed comfortably in a very plum turtleneck, a black, draping cardigan, and jeans. He’s wearing quite comfortable boots, as well.

Koujaku cradles Aoba’s hand with a determined grip as he guides his lover down the small flight of stairs, the wind kissing their cheeks. Being seven-and-a-half months isn’t easy. Once on even ground, Koujaku interlaces their fingers and starts down the lane in bound for the Seragaki residence. The route they choose is cleverly shrouded in shadows and void of throngs of people. It’s one that Ren himself suggested. It’s the same path they all take when the pairing goes on their strolls together.

The final, indigo blanket befalls the sky. The stars’ lights stud its fabric. Tranquility is all around them, but Aoba sticks close to Koujaku, apparently paranoid at every person that they do come in contact with. He begins to think the illusion created by his dark wardrobe will not be enough to disguise his baby bump from anyone who approaches. Of course, Koujaku picks up on the younger’s uneasiness.

“Aoba, what is it?”

“It’s been a while since I’ve been out like this.”

Aoba hugs the man’s arm, hiding some of his body behind him. Koujaku squeezes his hand reassuringly as they pass by the approaching couple.

“We’ll be fine. I’m right here. No one’ll bother us. We’ll be there in no time.”

“………It’s already so dark.”

“Mm. It’s getting darker faster.”

Aoba tosses his head back to look up at the dark sky, “Most of the stars are already out, too.”

“Beautiful, right?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s a little nippy, too,” Koujaku tucks him closer, “Are you warm?”

“Mmhm.”

They continue walking…

“Tell me if you get tired. We can stop and sit somewhere if you need to.” Though they really can’t afford to waste any more time, and Koujaku knows this. They’re already late.

“Koujackoff.”

Koujaku stops. The pet name registers. He peers to his right; shining yellow rings are glowing unusually in the darkness. His suspicions are confirmed.

“ _Sly_.”

Sly twists his lips. “Why d’you always say it like that?”

“What do you mean?”

“‘ _Sly_ ,’” Sly mimics just as he perceived it, dropping Koujaku’s hand to form a pretzel over his chest, “like that.”

Koujaku laughs. He’s too much. Sly tries to walk ahead of him – irritated for no clear reason – but Koujaku easily whips his pissy, pregnant self back and locks him in his arms. There’s no need to tighten his hold to make him stay, because Sly doesn’t try to resist. He doesn’t pretend that he doesn’t want this. It’s been fun taming him.

A tiny burst of pink explodes over Sly’s nose, but it’s easy to hide in the shade of night. His eyes flick to the ground. They audaciously confront the blood-red pair glinting at him.

“ _Sly_ ,” fucking purrs Koujaku like silky chocolate – cause if chocolate could purr it would probably sound like that – tipping his head lower, “How’s that?”

“……………I hate you.”

Koujaku drops a kiss beside his nose, “You’re coming out more. This is the third time this week.”

“…”

“You like seeing my face, don’t you?”

“You’re so full of it.”

Koujaku’s pointer finger traces infinite circles on Sly’s lower back, smirking. Sly pretends to be annoyed; he’s loving every stroke. It kinda tickles, too.

 “I’m always happy to see you, you know.”

“Nn, whatever. That makes one person. _I guess_. The old hag won’t be too happy to see me, though.”

This is true. It will be in everyone’s best interest to have Sly remain at bay within Aoba. He’s not necessarily on good terms with everyone. The only person he converses with on a _now_ regular basis is Koujaku. And speaking of…

“Why’d you come out, then?” Koujaku probes, “You know we’re on our way to her house.”

“.........”

Koujaku makes efforts to align their gazes, but Sly’s being very evasive, nibbling his upper lip and keeping his eyes pinned to the space between them. And then it clicks.

Koujaku’s left brow rises. “Could it be because you wanted to see me that badly?”

“Smug asshat,” Sly growls. He’s right. Koujaku does nothing but smile and hold him closer. Their noses tap.

“Well, we’ll stay here for a bit,” whispers Koujaku, caressing his back.

“Stay where?”

“Right here.”

“Why?”

Koujaku beams.

“So I can be with you.”

Sly is a tomato at this point.

He is a _tomato_ , and he doesn’t know what to do. His mind is washed with white. Sly’s eyes open up, swallowing Koujaku whole. His skin absolutely burns and his heart suddenly hurts. It struggles to absorb Koujaku’s words, and that’s why it hurts. He does not know how to accept such sweet words, because he has never received them.

Sly jams his head into Koujaku’s chest to hide whatever mess of an expression he’s wearing.

He wants to kiss Koujaku.

 :::::::

“ _AOBA-SAAAAN~!!_ ”

Aoba’s heart nearly catapults out of his throat at the shrill of his name. Clear flies out of the doorway and bolts for Aoba. He delicately shovels Aoba into his arms – astonishingly he doesn’t tip over – and squeals, “AOBA-SAN!! SURPRISE, AOBA-SAN!!”

Aoba is genuinely taken aback by the man’s presence. Clear is the last person he expects to answer the door. Just what business does he have with Tae at this hour?

“Cl-Clear!? What are—why are you here!? What surprise?” rushes Aoba, awkwardly returning Clear’s hug. He eyes Koujaku suspiciously, too. He’s significantly silent.

Koujaku sighs with a smile. Clear couldn’t wait until Aoba at least stepped over the threshold. The pink encasing his pupils seems to jump with sparkles.

“IT’S A SURPRISE PARTY FOR YOU AND KOUJAKU-SAN’S BABY!!” Clear explains with a bounce, sinking back to be face to face with Aoba. His arms are still wound around him.

“‘Surprise party?’” Aoba parrots, eyelashes all aflutter, “ _here?_ But… Koujaku and I are here for dinner with Granny.”

“Yes! Dinner and a party, too!” Clear adds, “With everyone!”

“’Everyone?’” Aoba echoes Clear a second time, so evidently perplexed it’s charming. He tosses his gaze to a quiet, smirking Koujaku once more. According to Aoba, this party doesn’t appear to be much of a shock to the hairdresser. His partner sure seems to have a better idea on what’s currently unfolding than he does.

“Are they still outside? AOBA!! KOUJAKU!!”

Before they know it, a scowling Tae’s standing beneath the doorway. The couple freezes.

“ _Hmph_. So you’ve finally decided to show. Quit your chitchatting and come inside, all o’ you. Maybe the food will still taste half-way decent.”

Clear snags Aoba’s left hand, kindly ushering him inside, “Come, Aoba-san~ We have been waiting for you!”

And he is telling the truth. Aoba scuffles into his old home and is firstly greeted by all of the beaming faces of his closest friends. Everyone’s staked out in the main living area. Aoba’s eyes first take in his elder brother. Sei is sitting snug under Mizuki’s wing on the couch. He’s wearing a much broader version of his naturally sweet grin. Ren hurries to find a seat in his lap. Adjacent to him is his bartender boyfriend, impishly smiling at the AllMate before acknowleging Aoba. Standing off to the side is a casually-dressed Noiz thumbing through his coil. He lifts his head to acknowledge Aoba; his verdant irises grow a shade lighter.

Brusquely, Clear tears from Aoba’s side and hops towards the kitchen where he’s most likely assisting Tae, Beni and Ren following. The dining table is garnished in several home-cooked dishes of all different shapes, colors, and sizes. There is, to the left of the table, a two-layer cake whose purple icing gave off an impossible metallic illusion. Cartoonish chickadees, hearts of varying colors, jellyfish, bunnies, and music notes adds flair to the impressive dessert. Off to where Noiz is lounging is a lengthy table where old family photos normally reside. In their places are numerous gift bags belching wrapping tissue and boxes of many hues. Purple and creamy yellow streamers streak the ceiling as far as one’s willing to look, and balloons big and small and of similar colors pepper the floor.

“What… What is all this?” Aoba mumbles to himself, but he’s loud and close enough for Koujaku to answer his question.

 Koujaku leaves a kiss at the top of Aoba’s head.

“It’s your baby shower,” he informs, “Tae-san and I planned all of it. Surprised?”

“Very.”

Sei leaves his post on the couch – Ren saving his seat – to come and embrace his stunned, pregnant brother. Gentle lips quickly brush Aoba’s cheeks. A swift kiss.

“You’re getting so big, Aoba. You look cute.”

And that’s all it takes. Aoba’s hit hard. He’s so touched that everyone’s here for him: Koujaku, Noiz, Mizuki, Clear, Sei, Ren and Beni, _Granny_ … Everyone has taken time out of their Friday evening just to celebrate possibly the most nerve-frazzling period of his entire life. Once the burning liquid seeps past his tear ducts, he cannot stop. Aoba brings forth his palms to clean and hide his sniveling face. He chews the skin of his bottom lip, endeavoring to mute his loud hiccups. It’s fruitless.

His heart is so unbearably full.

“Aw, there he goes. Crying already,” Mizuki playfully remarks aloud, taking his drink from the cocktail table near him, “told you it wouldn’t take long, Sei.”

“Sh-Shut up, Mizuki,” Aoba sharply stuffs his scrunched countenance into Koujaku’s neckline. Koujaku is not at all jolted by Aoba’s teary reaction. He expects as much. Still, he rings his arms about Aoba, giving him time to straighten his face and compose himself. “You’re welcome,” he emits.

Clear exits the kitchen and energetically invites him to sit in the special chair he proclaims he proudly prepared just for Aoba. All it is is one of the house chairs thoroughly embellished in sparkly garland, strategically placed in the center of the living room. It’s so obnoxious Aoba wonders how he initially looked over it. Nevertheless, he sits on his throne after cleaning his wet face, gawking and blushing at all of his guests.

“You’re all really…” Aoba’s statement fades to a stop. He gasps. His eyes cut left and right.

How could he have not noticed the absence of comfortable silence that can only be produced by one specific being?

“Is Mink here?” Aoba peeps, rubbing his lips together. Everybody sort of expels a defeated sigh. Clear is the only one to speak up.

“No. We are not certain if he will even come. Nearly everyone has tried to make contact with him. He was invited, after all. Unfortunately, we have all been unsuccessful.”

Aoba’s eyes fall to where his feet would be if he could see them.

“Oh.” He does not mean to blatantly display his disappointment. It’s never been easy for him to suppress his emotions. They have a mind of their own. Perhaps it’s selfish of him to think – Mink has his own, mysterious life to live – but it does not feel right to not have Mink there. They’ve experienced a lot together, so Aoba would like to at least share and experience this special night together. Mink has kind of forcefully burned his way into his heart. It doesn’t feel complete without him there.

Sei affectionately pets the crestfallen Aoba’s shining locks, “Maybe he’s on his way. You never know.”

“Wherever he is, he’s not going to have anything left to eat,” Tae scoffs, “Everybody wash up. We’re eating first.”

Aoba is the first to receive his meal. Koujaku heedfully piles generous helpings onto his lover’s tray while Aoba is forced to stay confined to his sparkly throne. He delivers the slab of food to the other’s open hands, chopsticks and napkins provided, too.

“That should be everything,” says Koujaku, setting a glass of water on the mini stand to the right of Aoba. Aoba receives everything graciously.

“Thank you~”

“S’my pleasure. Let me know if there’s anything else you need.” In other words, “stay off your feet.”

Overall, the food’s amazing, and everyone thinks likewise. When Tae and Clear work their magic in the kitchen, everybody’s taste buds benefit. Although Clear is a bit insecure about some of the dishes he crafts, literally pestering each guest by asking repetitively if everything tastes fine. Aoba doesn’t complain. Koujaku ascertained that he assembled all of Aoba’s favorites on one plate. He willingly fetched seconds of whatever else his lover wished. Tae demanded that her grandson eat second helpings, just to ensure that her great-grandchild was getting the necessary nutrients. The bump he’s toting is about an inch smaller than what’s considered acceptable at this point in his pregnancy, and although that’s nothing to be all too anxious about just yet, Tae doesn’t want to take any chances with this child. On a lighter note, Aoba and baby are ultimately very happy with the meal in the end.

“Now it’s time for presents!!” Clear pronounces with pure enthusiasm. Everyone’s finished eating, so the next phase of events is to begin. Clear takes it upon himself to be the first to introduce his gift. He does not have it displayed on the table with the rest of the presents. It’s actually stored in a cabinet in the kitchen. The gift? It’s a mobile carousel for a child’s crib, specifically one that chimes a twinkly, lulling tune as it drifts over the baby while they sleep. Suspending from seven yellow beams are different-colored, smiling jellyfish. Clear turns it on, and a sweet chime of his familiar melody softens the air and instantly relaxes Aoba. The jellyfish themselves even glow, slowly twirling in a hypnotizing ellipse.

“I made it myself! It wasn’t easy, either,” boasts Clear, handing off the carousel to Aoba, “D-Do you like it?”

Aoba accepts the present, pleasantly numb all over. The melody never ceases to strum every nerve in him.

“Yes, Clear. It’s perfect. Thank you so much.”

Clear and Aoba share a sweet hug, and seconds after they pull apart, a succession of green and purple bags arrive at his socked feet. Noiz is shuffling them. He comes into view from behind, towering over Aoba.

“I’m next. Here.”

Aoba’s lashes flicker in bemusement at the sheer amount of bloated bags that are collected on the floor. There are at least sixteen of them, all full to the brim. How did he not notice all of these bags?

“Shit, did he buy out a boutique?” Mizuki mutters to an equally baffled Koujaku. Noiz sucks his teeth and brushes off the ignorant comment.

“Noiz. What on earth did you get?” breathes Aoba.

“Clothes,” he replies, handing the last bag off to him. Indeed he did. Noiz purchases everything from onesies to rabbit jumpers to dresses to caps to shoes. Needless to say, every garment is rabbit themed to a degree, and its either purple or green. It would take about a half an hour to properly go through everything. Going by the mass of all the bags, she will have a new outfit to wear every day for the next two months, at least. Noiz even went so far as to buy sizes as far up as a year old.

“I will have the rest of them delivered to Koujaku’s place,” adds Noiz.

“‘THE REST!?’” everyone loudly gasps in flawless unison, but none louder than the expecting parents.

“It’s seriously not even that much,” Noiz continues, and the remark rouses a round of hearty laughter from Aoba. It’s just like Noiz to do something like this. Surely he would have expected something like this from him. It’s sweet. _He’s_ sweet.

“Well, clothes are definitely crossed off the list. Thank you, Noiz,” Aoba says with a wide grin. Noiz shrugs.

“Sure.”

Aoba calls him forth for a hug from him this time. Noiz sighs, allowing himself to be caught up in Aoba’s limbs. Aoba sneaks a peck to his brow. Noiz does his best to play it off, but everyone spots the tint of coral traveling across the bridge of his nose. It’s Aoba, so he lets it slide.

There are so many bags from Noiz clogging the table that they effectively enshroud Sei and Mizuki’s present. It’s their turn to present their gift to the expectant man. The couple chipped together to purchase a bassinet. It’s a gentle purple hue, akin to lavender, flowing with a gorgeous pattern of lace. Mizuki’s the one to roll it out.

“Uncle Sei picked this color, but I liked the black one better.”

“Purple is more appropriate for a _baby_ , Mizuki,” Sei softly defends, scratching behind Ren’s ears. He redirects his attention and smile to Aoba, “What do you think, Aoba? Can’t you see her in there already?”

Aoba swallows, “Yeah… It’s gorgeous, Sei.”

“But that’s not all, mommy,” Mizuki teases with a signaling finger, because that’s not all they bought. Along with their bassinet comes a little bath tray the parents will use to give their daughter her first baths. Aoba’s amber spheres glisten with water and his rosy cheeks ache with heat. There is something very emotional about having Sei – his flesh-and-blood, safe and sound, smiling, twin brother Sei – here with him, bestowing a gift upon him for his unborn daughter. The same goes for Mizuki. It’s something about seeing them together, under the same roof. They’re both here. They’re both okay. They’re healthy, grinning, happy, and in love. This is all surreal. He never fathomed he would see this day. Hell, he never fathomed there would ever be a day like this in his future.

Aoba composes himself, not particularly wishing to crumble into tears again.

“Mizuki, Sei… thank you for these,” Aoba sincerely says, an honest smile reflected on his minutely trembling lips. The twins exchange a drawn-out, steady hug and kisses. Mizuki simply slaps him on the shoulder. No need to get touchy.

Papajaku is next in line, and what else does a soon-to-be hairdresser father get for his daughter than top-of-the-line hair care products? Aoba is genuinely not surprised. He’s amused more than anything.

“Genetically, the odds are against me since I have darker hair, but every night I say a prayer pleading that she is born with Aoba’s hair,” Koujaku shamelessly confesses to the others. Noiz actually _laughs_.

“He really does,” Aoba confirms, packing away bottle after bottle of shampoos and conditioners. There’s even a kit containing styling combs and a pair of scissors. Koujaku’s unmistakably saving it for her first haircut. Aoba flaunts a budding smile.

“But what if she doesn’t have Aoba-san’s hair?” presses a curious Clear.

Koujaku confidently folds his arms over his chest. “I won’t have to worry about that. I know my prayers will be answered.”

Mizuki clutches his glass, “That’s Koujaku for you. ‘Least she’ll be the baby with the best hair on the island.” Sei titters behind his hand.

“To answer your question, Clear, he’ll most likely be traumatized, but he’ll live,” Aoba turns his vision to the man kneeling beside his chair, “Won’t you?” Koujaku’s lips comfortably greet Aoba’s; his fingertips fondle the soft ends of his partner’s loose hair. He promises to try.

“Seems like I’m the only one with the mind to buy necessities,” Tae remarks, approaching her grandson with her set of gifts with Clear’s help. She purchased a cute pack of bottles paired with cans of her own dry concoction of rich, newborn formula. Purple bibs and blankets sprouting with flowers accompany bundles of diapers to last the parents approximately two weeks.

“Granny… This is so _much_ …”

Tae drops off an extra purple bag to Koujaku, “Idiot. You’re having a baby, and that right there’s not nearly enough. It’s just something to get you both started.”

Inside of the bag is a sleek, yellow photo album, one in which printed pictures are inserted behind plastic sleeves. It’s a bit old-fashioned for this day and age, but that’s beside the point. It’s a more tangible alternative for storing pictures as opposed to electronically saving everything to a coil. “Family” rests at the bottom of the album. There is a young family depicted in the center of the album, giving them the option of replacing it with a picture of their own family.

…Family. Koujaku instinctively shivers at the very word, but he’s not afraid of it. Not anymore.

He has been blessed with a second chance. Tae has given him this chance when she formally approved of his relationship with Aoba. He is building a family with the man he has loved since the fateful day they crossed paths. This is his family now – Aoba, Tae, their baby…

They are going to be his family now.

Koujaku abruptly stands. He lassoes Granny up, totally engulfing her in his embrace. Aoba understands the entire situation, his orbs glimmering at the sight.

“ _Thank you_ ,” he sincerely mutters to her, voice crackling, “ _Thank you, Tae-san. Thank you_.”

Tae consolingly strokes his backside.

“Oi… No need to get so emotional. _Suck it up_. You deserve this happiness, Koujaku.”

The returning smile he gives her lets her know he finally believes the same. When he breaks away from Tae, he wastes no time in plucking Aoba off of his tush and into his arms. Aoba melts in the loving, protecting grip of his boyfriend, retaliating with a just as loving gaze to the crimson eyes above.

“I love you, Aoba,” Koujaku promises to those glossy ambers, both his hands moving in circles to soothe away the pressure he knows compounding at the center of Aoba’s lower lumbar, “and I’m sorry, but you’re stuck with me forever.”

Aoba hums, the sensations born from Koujaku’s hands having a drugging effect, “Boy, aren’t I lucky… I love you, too, hippo.” Aoba pulls him down to mesh their lips, and Koujaku happily submits to the kiss. The onlookers grow a little warmer as they digest such an intimate display.

It’s time for cake, and Aoba cannot be any more excited to sink his teeth into a slice of the moist dessert. Just as Koujaku raises the plastic cake cutter, a pair of solid knocks draws everyone’s attention to the main door. Tae answers. On the other side of the door stands – as straight and stiff as a tree – is the ever elusive Mink.

“You really decided to show.” She allows him passage inside her home. Aoba’s eyes enlarge at the sight of the tardy guest. A smile manifests all on its own.

“ _Mink_.”

“Mink-san!! You made it! You really came!” Clear exclaims, jogging to his side, “We only have scraps of food left, but you can have that if you want! We are about to cut Aoba-san’s cake, too!”

“No thank you,” Mink gruffs, cradling Aoba’s gaze in his eyes, “I don’t have long, anyway.” He deposits onto Aoba’s lap a small, rough sac sealed at the mouth by a beaded tie. It seems to have come from one of the many compartments of his trench.

“For me? Thanks,” Aoba mutters, undoing the tie. Inside the sac is a set of soft, white woven booties, mitts, and a cap appropriate for the encroaching winter. There’s no question that Mink made them. It screams authentic. Aoba can just envision him agonizing for hours over the littlest details, not to mention the time he took to just sit and complete them. To Aoba, the presents are all the more meaningful.

“These are very beautiful, Mink. And so thick. She’ll definitely be warm. Thank you so much!”

Mink lightly nods. His eyes scan the living room seemingly for a person. Koujaku comes to the scene, a tiny plate carting a considerably large slice of cake. He beams at Mink’s crafty gifts.

“You made those yourself, didn’t you, Mink? That’s fine work.”

“Aoba. Koujaku.” Mink totally disregards Koujaku’s compliment. His deep call of their names successfully sweeps up the pair’s eyes and ears. Everyone’s attention, rather.

“You may reject my offer if you see fit, but I have come to ask your permission to say a blessing over the child.”

Aoba’s heart leaps in his chest. A blessing? Mink wants to say a blessing? He peers to his right, to Koujaku, who is all smiles for him. Apparently he already approves, but he doesn’t feel that his say is all that important in this matter despite being the father. Aoba’s the one carrying the baby, and – aware of their past – Aoba and Mink are more connected on a spiritual level the likes of which Koujaku could not begin to comprehend. Koujaku grips Aoba’s left hand, kisses it, and widens his smile. By the time he does that, Aoba’s already made his decision.

“Why would we reject it? A blessing’s harmless, right?” Aoba pats Mink on the head, “Yes. You have our permission, Mink.”

Mink dips his head curtly in an affirming nod. The cocktail table in the center of the living room is moved back some to adequate Mink’s impressive build. He reaches inside his bag and brings out a handful of stems with some budding, pink flower at one end of the tip. Mink lets them know that they’re peonies, a symbol of protection. He hands each stem to one of the guests. Koujaku is given the longest stem. Mink instructs everyone to form an oval around Aoba. As the oval is being formed, Mink lights some incense and stoops in front of an anticipating Aoba. Mink’s hands sensibly and respectfully settle on the round sides of Aoba’s belly. He exhales, closes his eyes, and bows his head. A peaceful silence resounds for what feels to be a full minute until repeated incantations spill from Mink’s mouth and into the air.

Aoba veils his amber eyes. Warmth, a very easeful, trusting warmth, flushes through his blood. It’s cleansing. He feels peacefully detached from everyone else, from the world. All he senses is Mink’s words and the fragrance floating from the incense invading his tingling capillaries, and extraordinarily, he feels a stronger connection forming with his baby. He can see the formation play on the backs of his eyelids. Her spirit darts in bright, wild patterns, and amongst the darkness, Aoba identifies another presence beside her: it’s unquestionably Sly’s. Aoba watches the denser, larger spirit mingle and curve around the restless baby’s. Sly appears to be encompassing her, or attempting to… The spectacle is awfully entertaining. It’s precious.

Aoba is so engrossed in his newfound tranquility he does not even realize when Mink has stopped praying. He lifts his eyelids sluggishly. How long has he been watching the spirits? Did he fall asleep? How long was Mink’s prayer? The blessing’s over? The _party?_

Mink’s hands rise to each side of the oval. “The stems in your hands,” he says to the surrounding others, “blow on them once, and then hand them to me.” Everyone follows Mink’s instructions precisely. They pass off the budding stems. Mink hands promptly begin to gracefully weave the stems purposefully, in a particular, mesmerizing rhythm. Whatever he’s making, he definitely knows what he’s doing. Aoba’s fascinated by the commotion happening near his lap. The longer he watches Mink’s handiwork, the more the stems seem to make sense, to look like something. It takes all but a minute for Mink to complete his creation.

It’s a _crown_.

Mink offers another string of prayers, simultaneously seating the circlet atop his head.

“May God protect Aoba, Koujaku, and the child for the rest of their days,” Mink concludes in a tongue that everyone understands. “Overwhelmed” does not even begin to describe Aoba’s feelings right then. Mink is here in front of him, smiling, for one. He has just wrapped up blessing his unborn child. He found time to physically make something for her, and now he has made a crown of budding peonies adorning his head.

All in all, Mink truly _came_.  

Mink laughs and is voluntarily yanked into Aoba’s chest via his suction limbs. He’s stifling his sobs as he thanks him for the gentle blessing. Mink fondly returns the hug, murmuring, “I feel that _he’s_ calmed down substantially.”

“Yes,” wet ambers meet golden eyes, “since I’ve accepted him, he’s become more lax. He’s taken to her, too, which is what I worried about from the beginning.”

Mink straightens Aoba’s titled crown, “You all will be fine.”

Aoba smiles… He believes him.

Mink initially said he could not stay for long. He had other business elsewhere; Aoba resolves that he would certainly stay if he absolutely could have. Whatever he has to do, it’s important. So Aoba invites him to at least take a slice of cake with him. He kindly refuses, plus, what does Mink look like carrying around a purple piece of cake? Aoba’s not offended. It’s _Mink_.

Aoba sees him off. He wonders when and where will be the next time he’ll see Mink. But he doesn’t have to worry. It will not be too long before he sees him again, or stumbles upon a bundle of exotic flowers at Koujaku’s doorstep.

It’s approaching eleven, and although he’s sincerely enjoying everyone’s company, Aoba is feeling sapped of energy from head to toe. Catching on, Tae announces the end of the festivities, ordering her grandson to go home immediately and rest. He does not fight with her. Adamantly, Aoba does claim to his lover that he has it in him to walk back home, but Koujaku vehemently denies and calls for a cab. Ultimately they decide to keep most of the gifts at Tae’s and return for the rest another day. There’s only so much that can fit in a cab.

Everyone gets a hug and “good night” from Aoba. Mizuki platonically smacks his ass. Clear promises he’ll be over tomorrow. Sei wishes him sweet dreams. Noiz’s silent hug is probably the longest.

Tae has to rush them all out the door.

:::::::

The journey home is short and smooth. Koujaku packs away all the gift bags he can in the bedroom, and when he returns to the living quarters he finds Aoba with his back to him, setting his budding peony crown aside and putting up his hair. Only it’s not Aoba. It’s Sly, because that’s his signature ponytail.

Aoba agreed to allow Sly quality time with Koujaku for the night. He insisted that he did, in fact. Aoba basically thrusts him forth. Sly would much rather dip his arm in acid than truthfully admit it, but he gets restless and quite difficult to coexist with whenever he doesn't get his one-on-one time with Koujaku.

Presently, Koujaku's observing Sly from the darkened corner. He's looking at the lilies Koujaku placed in the vase near the window. Sly touches a few petals tentatively with light taps of his fingertips, as if afraid they may break. He's so preoccupied with them he does not realize his lover's presence until he gulps him up in his arms. Sly shrieks.

"Oh my fucki- _Koujaku._ "

"Like your flowers?" 

"Fuck you."

"Later. Let's have cake first."

They are now digging their forks into a nice-sized slice of the purple cake that the hairdresser saved from the party at the dining table. He’s playing footsies again. Sly decides to indulge him this time around. He’s actually in the mood for his childish antics.

“Were you surprised?” Koujaku poses.

“With what?”

“Your baby shower.”

Sly curls a corner of his lip at the “your,” but then he remembers… it was his baby shower, too. He feels Koujaku’s pestering toes stroke his ankle.

“More or less. We got a shit ton of clothes from bunny boy.”

“Yeah. She won’t need very much now. All that’s left really are essentials,” and Koujaku gently chuckles at the crumbly scrap of cake resting on the fork in front of his lips, “She’ll really be here soon.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think I’ll be ready.”

“You? You’re not the one who has to give birth to it.”

“How exactly will that work?”

“Hell if I know,” Sly replies with a shrug, popping another piece of cake into his mouth. He tongues the icing off the back of the fork – it’s very serpent-esque – and Koujaku watches with the most obvious interest. Sly smirks, pleased, and folds his calf around one of Koujaku’s. It brings them closer.

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Koujaku eats the chunky morsel, overcome by the sweetness of the cream, “This icing is really sweet.”

“ _Thick_ , too,” Sly pretty much moans. Koujaku notably stops chewing. He feels Sly’s calf rise up and down. He wants it. He’s asking for it.

He’ll get it.

“I don’t see how Clear had two slices,” continues Koujaku.

“This cake is diabetes.”

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s too fucking sweet.”

“It’s _cake_ , Sly. I saved it so we could eat it together.”

“Well it’s gonna keep me up all night.”

“Then I’ll wear you out.”

The topazes in Sly’s eye sockets are pinpoint focused on Koujaku right now, and Koujaku likes his reaction very much. He reaches under the little table, clasps the underside of Sly’s chair and pulls it closer to him in a short, fast jerk. Their kneecaps bump. Koujaku slaps his thigh, keeping his hand clutched about the firm muscle and his confident smirk stretched. In painfully slow ellipses does that hand caress his thigh, which becomes his _thighs_ , which becomes his mid-thighs, which becomes his inner thighs.

And Sly is halfway gone, flustered putty in Koujaku’s hands.

**Author's Note:**

> gyah just thank you for reading this [i](http://prettysoldierbee.tumblr.com/) will go hide somewhere now.


End file.
